


The Blade is DONE with affection (but not with secret rooms)

by justpressX



Series: Sneaky Bois Inc., the mafia au that no one asked for [3]
Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Gen, M/M, Mafia AU, Mentioned Alexis | Quackity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-28
Updated: 2020-12-28
Packaged: 2021-03-10 20:13:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,554
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28383036
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/justpressX/pseuds/justpressX
Summary: And that was how, sword in hand and missing his earpiece, The Blade found himself in a depressingly empty guest room that almost certainly held a secret room.It was pretty obvious; zero out of ten, could see it immediately. After all, it was hard to hide a secret entrance in a room where there was close to nothing inside the aforementioned room. He could almost smell it in the air.He strode across the room to the closet – because of course it was in the closet, what was this, some Narnia rip-off? – and peeked inside. Squinting behind the outdated coats and patterned shirts that he was sure never saw the light of day, Techno could just barely make out a small innocent-looking button."Well, here goes nothing," he told himself. He pushed aside the dusty clothes and pressed the button.Title is a work-in-progress, sorry!
Relationships: Clay | Dream/Floris | Fundy
Series: Sneaky Bois Inc., the mafia au that no one asked for [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2078781
Comments: 1
Kudos: 115
Collections: Completed stories I've read





	The Blade is DONE with affection (but not with secret rooms)

Dream had expected his arrival. There was no surprise about that; Techno had been in the room when Fundy, having just been informed of the desired assassination – placed by a tragically heartbroken British-sounding man – on his fiancé, spammed Dream with so many messages and attempted calls that the internet service to nearby houses cut out for a solid hour.

Fundy had just continued typing desperately, oblivious to Phil’s hurried reassurances that they were only pretending to kill Dream, and that Techno wouldn’t hurt him at all. Techno chose not to disagree with the statement.

Once their tech support had calmed down (and sent Dream an apology message for blowing up his notifications), he grudgingly agreed to help Techno plan a break-in, and in return, Phil came up with a plan to sneak Dream into their headquarters for safety. If he agreed, that was.

“Well?” The man in question asked when he awoke one Sunday afternoon to find Techno, visibly tired and bored, sitting in his chair, by his desk. Techno sighed loudly, yawning despite himself. He stared back at Dream – or at least he hoped it was Dream – unblinkingly, a hand idly resting on his sword. He could hear Fundy screeching in his ear.

“Don’t you dare hurt Dream!” he yelled, trying to sound intimidating over the earpiece. Too bad his voice kept cutting out, else he might have sounded the slightest bit scary instead of resembling a yapping chihuahua.

Dream’s face lit up hopefully as Techno groaned. “Is that Fundy?” He asked, a small smile gracing his face at the mere mention of his fiancé. Techno sighed, yanking the earpiece off. Faintly, Fundy continued yelling as Techno tossed the earpiece to Dream.

“Yes, he’s there, do your talking or whatever, then we need to talk,” Truthfully, there wasn’t much to sort out – or at least there hadn’t been, until Fundy came into the mix.

Without the interference of a worried and overprotective fiancé, all Techno had to do was kidnap Dream with as little force possible, then drag him into the headquarters, which would probably involve a lot of kicking and screaming.

Fundy had shot that down immediately. 

So now Techno had to first explain the situation – calmly – then escort Dream into the headquarters if the other agreed to go with him, or leave him alone and subsequently protect him from other hitmen if he did not, all with the previously mentioned worried and overprotective fiancé yelling at him over an (admittedly well-constructed) earpiece.

Dream caught the earpiece, holding it to his ear tentatively. “Fundy? Fundy, it’s me!” 

Then came the longest fifteen minutes of his life. Despite texting all day and night – Techno would know; Fundy was always on his phone or laptop in the headquarters, a stupid grin on his face – the two of them apparently had a lot to talk about, including Dream assuring Fundy that Techno didn’t hurt him one bit.

After three minutes and a dozen petnames, Techno just tuned them out in favour of looking around Dream’s house. And that was how, sword in hand and missing his earpiece, The Blade found himself in a depressingly empty guest room that almost certainly held a secret room.

It was pretty obvious; zero out of ten, could see it immediately. After all, it was hard to hide a secret entrance in a room where there was close to nothing inside the aforementioned room. He could almost smell it in the air. 

He strode across the room to the closet – because of course it was in the closet, what was this, some Narnia rip-off? – and peeked inside. Squinting behind the outdated coats and patterned shirts that he was sure never saw the light of day, Techno could just barely make out a small innocent-looking button.

"Well, here goes nothing," he told himself. He pushed aside the dusty clothes and pressed the button. With a soft click, the back of the closet retracted, revealing an opening that led down a winding flight of stairs. An old-fashioned torch was mounted on the wall, bursting into flames the second he looked at it. Rolling his eyes, Techno ducked his head and crawled into the closet, heading down the stairs.

Although he inwardly made fun of Dream's theatrics, he would be lying to say he wasn't at least a little curious as to what the man was hiding. What would Dream, a well-respected citizen, have to hide away? He found his answer a moment later, when the stairway opened up into a large room, filled with weapons, potions, and books upon books. Techno was impressed.

One shelf, next to blackened cauldrons and jars of potion ingredients, held many weathered books, many of them bearing runic titles and some even emitting a faint glow when Techno touched their spines. A shelf on the wall, nearly hidden from view by a threadbare banner, held a small sprig of lilac and another of dandelion, both clearly well taken care of despite the lack of natural sunlight.

The occasional axe or sword hung on the walls, gleaming and sharpened to a deadly point. As he surveyed the shelves around him, Techno noticed that a particular short shelf held only plain, leather-bound books. Intrigued, he picked one at random and flipped it open, finding pages of handwritten notes and pencil-sketched diagrams. Interesting.

It was like every time he looked at the room, he noticed something new, be it the otherworldly green-blue orb that seemed to watch him silently from its place on the desk, the map pinned on the wall with scribbles and drawings all over it, or the shards of obsidian, lodged into the far wall and forming an arch that faintly shimmered when the light hit it at just the right angle.

Techno would have loved to stay there, looking at everything and learning about them. The room was a veritable trove of knowledge, and he yearned to know everything there was to know about the things in it.

But then he heard some muffled banging, and his first thought was that Dream had realised where he was. In an instant he was bolting up the stairs, heart pounding, and scrambled out of the closet, punching the button to hide the room. He shut the closet doors as quietly as he could, not daring to breathe as the pounding on the door increased in volume.

The first thing he’d ever learnt about sneaking around where he shouldn’t be – from Wilbur, no less – was to not get caught. It was a pretty obvious precaution to take, and Techno had instinctively shut and locked the door when he’d got in, a move he thanked his previous self for.

The next step Wilbur had taught him was less obvious; don’t cause a distraction or even tell anyone you were ever there. If someone walked in, instead of giving them a made-up excuse, kill them; if they got in through the locked door, they were definitely dangerous and probably not easy to trick. Techno had followed them his whole life, with excellent – from his point of view – results.

Unfortunately, if Dream happened to get in, Techno would die either way – by Dream or by Fundy. And so, throwing Wilbur’s words out of the window, he picked up a bedside lamp – one of the only things in the room – and tossed _that_ out of the window as well.

It crashed through the leaves of some tree that Dream kept in his garden, then hit the pool with a splash. It probably then short-circuited, Techno guessed with his limited knowledge of electronics.

A second later, the lights snapped off, eliciting a confused yelp from outside the door. Techno took full credit for the power outage. He had definitely known that Dream had a pool, and had definitely known that tossing a lamp in would cause a house-wide blackout. _Definitely._

However – and Techno might be mistaken, but – the voice outside the room didn’t sound like Dream. In fact, if he strained his ears, he could just about hear Dream still pining over Fundy in his room, unaffected by the blackout.

Now that Techno thought about it, Dream’s room was in a weird location; on the first floor instead of the second floor like the other rooms, and sandwiched between the kitchen and living room, but accessed from the other side. His house was practically identical to a maze.

“Open the fucking door, I know you're in there!” A voice that was obviously trying to be scary and commanding but failing miserably at both called out.

Well, that certainly wasn't Dream. In fact, it sounded vaguely Mexican, and very angry. Techno let out a sigh of relief at that; angry men, that he could handle. Dream, he could not; especially considering Fundy.

"Why would he lock the door, making my job way harder…" The – presumably – hitman complained from the other side of the door. A second later, the door trembled on its hinges as he kicked it, howling in pain no long after. "BITCH!"

"Yes, yell at the door after you kicked it, that definitely makes sense," Techno couldn't help saying.

An offended scoff came in response, followed by a confused, "Wait… you're not Dream!"

"And _you're_ not Dream either; who are you?" 

"Why should I tell you?" The voice retorted. “Who even are you?”


End file.
